Origins
by kittybigby
Summary: Who knew a simple game of dress up was the origin of the fair Lady McCormick? [A cutesy one shot regarding Karen and Kenny.]


**A/N: So I got a serious case of writer's block, and in hope to gain ideas, I came up with this. Merely a cutesy one shot about the origins of Lady McCormick. Thought it'd be cute if Karen was involved. Feel free to correct my grammar, since I wrote it at like 2:00am. Enjoy!**

Oh, it's a regular day alright.

Bottles breaking. Swearing. Two drunken males. Nothing to see here. Just a normal day in the McCormick household. I sit in my usual spot on the couch, flipping through TV channels. Trying to tune out the world. My mom's screaming at my Dad and my brother, who are both wasted at the moment.

"Drunk pieces of shit!" She screams, throwing a bottle of whiskey onto the ground. I turn around, watching the glass scatters across the carpet, one piece bouncing off Kevin's knee. He growls in annoyance, and stumbles off somewhere. I sigh, and return my attention to the TV. I flip through more channels, failing to find anything interesting. I place my chin in my palm, setting down the remote. I let my thoughts take me away, somewhere away from all the yelling and drunkies.

I'm brought back by Kevin's voice.

"Kenny. Kenny. Snap out of it." He says angrily. I look at him.

"What?" I reply. 

"It's Karen. She wants someone to play dress up with her." I shoot him a funny look. He grits his teeth. "I'm busy!"

"Doing what, getting drunk?" I immediately regret what I say when he cracks his knuckles. "Okay, okay. I'll go play with her." I spring from the couch, and chuckle nervously. He glares at me again.

"She's in your room." He says.

"Okay." My eyes narrow as I head to my room, slightly annoyed with myself. Gosh, I can never stand up to him. I guess I'm a little afraid he might bash my head in. Or something. I sigh, and walk through the doorway leading into my room. Karen's already sitting on my bed, a tiny cardboard box in her lap. A shy smile dances on her lips. I smile too, but it's concealed by my parka.

"Hi, Kenny. Kevin said you would play dress up with me." She shakes the box.

"Yeah." I walk over to my bed, and sit next to her. Her smile broadens.

"Okay. Let's start with makeup." She slightly opens the box, and fishes out a red marker. I sigh, and let her slide my hood off. She uncaps the marker, and gently grabs my chin. I squint my eyes so I can read the tattered logo on the marker.

_Sharpie_.

"Uhh, Karen, no." I manage to stop the marker from touching my lips with a few words.

"Why? You need make up…" She tries to color my bottom lip, but I gently grab her hand.

"No, Karen. You can't use that marker. It'll hurt me." Her eyes widen, and she drops the marker. I release her hand, and she starts to look doleful. She looks at her box, and frowns.

"I'm sorry, Kenny." I softly smile, and tousle her hair. _That was close. _

"It's okay. You didn't know. What else is in your box?"

"I don't have anymore red markers."

"Does it have to be red? Don't you have a purple marker?"

Her face brightens up again. "Yes. It's in Mommy's room."

"Then go get it." I tell her, but she's already up and gone. I chuckle as I listen to her loud footsteps as she runs through the hall, into my parents' room, and back to mine. She now holds a worn-out Crayola marker in her hand. She uncaps the marker. My smile fades as she takes her seat next to me once more, and grabs my chin again.

"Is this marker okay?" She inquires.

"Yes. It won't hurt me." She pulls my face close to the marker tip, and begins brushing purple ink onto my lips. My upper lip twitches as she continues, until my lips are completely drenched in marker. She lets go of me, and caps the marker. She grins, and quietly claps her hands.

"You look pretty, Kenny!" She exclaims, placing the box in her lap again. She peeps inside, and takes out a yellow, beaten highlighter. I already know what's coming next, and I close my eyes. The marker meets my left eyelid, slightly jabbing into my eye. Once she finishes, she moves on to the other eye, her breathing intensifies. She colors in my right eyelid, and pulls the tip away from my face. "Okay, the make up is done!"

"What's next?" I ask, even thought I already know the answer.

"Accessories!" She shouts quietly, reaching into the box again. She pulls out an assortment of bracelets, and yanks my arm. "I only have bracelets, but it'll still make you pretty." She slides the bracelets onto my wrist, and looks at me with wide, kind eyes.

"That was fun, right?" I say, starting to get up. I stop when I feel her tug on my arm. I look back down at her, and softly smile. "Yes, Karen?"

"We're not done yet." She tells me.

_Strange. Usually she only does make up and accessories. _I slowly ease back into my spot on my bed, and she lets go. She purses her lips, and cocks her head to the side. "What else are you gonna do, Karen?"

"It's a surprise." She says. "Close your eyes."

I follow her instructions, and close my eyes. I hear rustling, and something slips over my head. Whatever it is, it's snug. Something tickles my nose, and I'm tempted to brush it away. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Wait, Kenny!" She fumbles with my nose, and the tickling ceases. I hear her get up, and move behind me. "Okay, open on three. 1…."

A popping noise.

"…2…" I feel hair drape over my shoulders.

"…3!" I open my eyes, and I'm greeted by my reflection in a broken mirror. Through the cracks I see my marker-plastered face, and a messy, blonde wig has been placed on my head. I blink, and tilt my head back slightly. Karen is giggling behind me, holding the mirror in front of me. "Aren't you pretty?" I sigh, and smirk.

"Yes. I'm _gaawwwwgous._" I say with a flawed British accent. She laughs, and flops onto her back. She rolls onto her side as I turn to her. I flip my new hair around, blinking rapidly. "You did beautifully, my stylist."

"Why thank you, _belle jeune fille_." She repeats a french phrase I taught her not too long ago.

"Oh my, I am quite fair indeed…." I twirl a piece of hair on my pinkie, batting my eyelashes.

"You are the fair Lady McCormick." She says, her giggles increasing. I blink. Lady McCormick. A fair maiden with beautiful blonde locks. A gorgeous, young woman. I begin to zone out, until Karen's voice brings me back into reality. "Kenny?" I put on a smirk, and rest my head on the rotting wall.

"_Eu sunt frumoasa Lady McCormick._" I say in Romanian, playing with my bottom lip. Karen sits up, and looks at me in curiosity.

"What does that mean, Kenny? I don't understand." When I don't reply, her brow furrows, and she hops off my bed. "Um, well, come and get me if you want to play dress up again. Thank you for playing with me." I nod, and smile warmly.

"You're welcome, Karen." I reply. I watch her walk out of the room, carrying the box she came in with. I look at the bracelets on my arm, cocking my head to the side.

"Lady McCormick." I repeat the name quietly to myself, over and over again, until I'm reminded of a recent encounter with Cartman.

Didn't he say something about a Kingdom?

**Translation Notes**

_**Belle jeune fille **_**– **French; means 'fair maiden'

_**Eu sunt frumoasa Lady McCormick **_**– **Romanian; means 'I am the beautiful Lady McCormick."


End file.
